


And We Danced

by korilove



Series: drabbles [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bartender Stiles Stilinski, F/M, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Slow Dancing, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korilove/pseuds/korilove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>tumblr prompt: two miserable people meeting at a wedding au</p>
            </blockquote>





	And We Danced

**Author's Note:**

> here's a little somethin to feed your stydia fluff kick :) 
> 
> title is from we danced by brad paisley.

Serving at a wedding was probably Stiles’ least favorite thing.

 

Sure, he liked being a bartender well enough. By most people’s third drink the tips got pretty good, and there was an endless string of women to flirt with. Most importantly, it paid his bills.

 

The Anderson-Martin wedding was probably one of the more extravagant weddings he’d tended; various deep colored flowers, twinkling lights, and luxurious fabrics at every turn of the golf course they’d booked. They’d wanted the bar to open immediately after the ceremony, so Stiles had been ready for 3 o’clock.

 

A particular bridesmaid had caught his attention a few times that night. She had reddish blonde hair that stopped just above the swell in her floor-length gown, and the most piercing green eyes he’d ever seen. She seemed in pretty low spirits for a bridesmaid - Stiles was pretty sure she hadn’t smiled the entire night, keeping to herself mostly until she came back to refill her martini. Gin instead of vodka. Dirty. Extra olives.

 

The party lasted until 1 am, when the DJ had cut off the music and the crowd dissipated. Stiles was cleaning up the bar when he noticed the girl he’d had his eye on all night was still sitting at one of the tables furthest away from the bar. He couldn’t see her face, since she was looking down at the ground.

 

Stiles walked over to her, mostly just to check if she was okay. He got all the way in front of her before his nerves kicked in, heart thrumming in his chest. He cleared his throat twice, but she didn’t lift her head.

 

“Uh. Miss?” He tried.

 

She finally looked up at him; her eyes glossy and tired looking. She licked her lips quickly before huffing out a sigh. “Yes?”

 

“I - I think the course is closing down for the night.” He stuttered, eyes unable to look away from the moisture that had accumulated over the faded red lipstick.

 

“I am aware of that, thank you,” is her short reply, but she doesn’t move from her seat.

 

Stiles brushes it off and finishes his work - all the liquor bottles and various types of mix packed away in the company van. He goes back to get his jacket, and the redhead is still sitting the same position.

 

Perplexed, he decides to try again. There’s no way she’s going to stay on the green all night by herself.

 

“Miss?”

 

“Lydia.” She snaps, eyes raising to meet his.

 

Stiles breathes in quickly, a bit shocked by her demeanor. “Well, Lydia, I don’t think you can stay here overnight.” He quips back.

 

Lydia sighs and picks at her manicure. “My sister just got married to my ex, I’m perfectly inclined to do whatever it is I please.”

 

“Wow.” Stiles sympathizes, eyebrows raised. “And they made you a bridesmaid?”

 

Lydia nods. “The Martins expect a certain level of civility. I wasn’t exactly given a choice.”

 

Stiles shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

 

The redhead shrugs her shoulders.

 

Stiles turns to walk away, but something is nagging him at the back of his mind. He pivots mid-stride to face her again.“Well, you shouldn’t be alone out here all night.”

 

Lydia scoffs. “I can take care of myself, Mr. Bartender.” She slurs the end of the sentence.

 

“Stiles.”

 

She just nods, skepticism written on her face. She doesn’t appear to have any intention of moving for a long time.

 

“Alright, I’ll dance you for it.”

 

Lydia looks back up at him. “Excuse me?”

 

Stiles smiles. “If you can dance better than I can with no music, I’ll leave you alone.”

 

She rolls her eyes animatedly, arms crossing in front of her. “There’s no music.” Is her only objection.

 

Stiles runs his hands through his hair and sighs, “Look, I can’t in good conscience leave you here all night without trying to help you. One dance, and if you can outshine me then I’ll just get in my van and be on my way. You can sleep under one of the tables for all I care.”

 

Lydia clicks her tongue. “Okay, but what’s in it for you, Stiles?”

 

Stiles laughs. “I get to school a pretty girl in a dance off. What’s not to like?”

 

Apparently she has no other objections, as she shrugs her shoulders again. She makes a show of holding out her hand, and Stiles feels triumphant as he pulls her out of her seat.

 

He leads her up the stairs of the gazebo closest to them, still decorated from the festivities. When they reach the center he swings her around, grasping her waist and taking the lead.

 

Lydia says nothing at first, she just rests her head on his shoulder as they sway back and forth around the gazebo.

 

When she finally does look at her dance partner, her features have softened from the anger and pity that had been there before. “Stiles, huh?”

 

Stiles can’t help but chuckle. “It’s a nickname.”

 

Lydia nods slowly, a smirk on her lips. “Do I get to know the real name?”

 

“Oh, no. You’ll have to work much harder than that to know my real name.” Her face goes into mild shock as he spins her out of his arms and back again. Then he pulls her closer, the pace of their dance slowing down.

 

Stiles loses track of how long they stay like that, swaying around the edges of the gazebo to a soundless rhythm. Her hair tickles as it brushes up against his face, a light breeze blowing around them. The only sounds are her breathing mixed with his, and the last thing he wants is for it to end.

 

Then, quietly and without meaning to, Stiles presses his lips to the exposed skin of her neck. Lydia slowly draws back to look at him. Her irises have darkened and the flit down to his mouth and then back up - as if daring him to.

 

So he does.

 

Lydia’s hands clutch at the hairs at the back of his neck as their lips brush, soft and tentative and searching. Stiles swears he hears a faint whimper, but it was so quiet he might have imagined it.  When they break apart, he moves his lips to her ear and whispers his first name.  “ _Przmyslaw_.”

 

Lydia suddenly pulls away from his shoulders, curiosity etched in her features. "Is that polish?" She asks. Stiles gives her a small nod, smile wide as she leans back in to kiss him again.

 

Maybe tending weddings weren’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm [lydiamsrtin](lydiamsrtin.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
